


closer to me

by thatfire



Series: standing in light exhumed [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfire/pseuds/thatfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Derek rides Stiles, Stiles is slack jawed and flushed cheeks, eyes wide and glossy, lips bitten red, and Derek finds himself staring at Stiles more than anything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	closer to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oldmanrenkas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmanrenkas/gifts), [monopolizeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monopolizeme/gifts).



> Me and Becca got talking about bottom Derek and then I somehow found myself writing this and it evolved into porn with feelings :)  
> No Beta, any spelling mistakes are my own.

The first time Derek rides Stiles, Stiles is slack jawed and flushed cheeks, eyes wide and glossy, lips bitten red, and Derek finds himself staring at Stiles more than anything else.

 

Stiles' hands keep on running up Derek's sides, like he can't stop himself from _touching_ , stroking up his thighs and Derek's muscles bunching, jumping under Stiles' fingertips before relaxing again.

 

It's the first time they've actually done this, the first time Stiles has fucked Derek, opened him up with slow and careful fingers and whispered words into his neck, so quiet like Derek hadn't been meant to hear them, had ended up kissing Stiles when it got too much, biting into his mouth and soothing with his tongue.

 

Stiles had insisted on Derek riding him, tugged him over with sticky hands until Derek was straddling his hips, hands resting either side of his face, had said, almost shy, that he wanted to watch Derek above him, wanted to touch and see everything, and Derek couldn't deny that, had reached behind himself, slicked Stiles up and rocked down onto his cock, breath punched out of him and eyes fluttering shut.

 

Derek had tried to take it slow at first, easing himself down, before lifting up, waiting and rocking back down again, almost smiling at the sex drunk look on Stiles' face, the way his eyes flittered across Derek, lips, chest, cock, cataloguing every movement before jolting back to his face, and Derek had felt like a king, lent down until he curved over Stiles, faces inches apart.

 

He'd wanted to say something meaningful then, tell Stiles exactly how he felt, exactly how Stiles _made_ him feel, but had ended up almost _whining_ "Fuck, Stiles."--

 

\-- And Stiles had nodded, foreheads and noses brushing together, had said "I know, I know Derek." hips snapping up the same at moment he'd clashed their mouths together, teeth knocking, and mixed breaths.

 

Derek had stopped holding himself back after that, curved one arm beneath Stiles' head, fingers clenching in the pillow, before fucking himself back onto Stiles' cock, hole fluttering when he almost pulled completely off.

 

The air around them is hot, suffocating, almost, and Derek's thighs keep on slipping against Stiles' hips, damp hair sticking against his forehead. Stiles' hands feel clammy against his skin, stroking down his back and over the bumps of his spine, rubbing at the nape of his neck and the different textured skin of his triskelion tattoo.

 

Derek lifts his head slowly, bites at Stiles' chest, kisses the spot when Stiles jumps, stuttered half moan rattling in his throat, and leans back, tries to find purchase on Stiles' thighs with one hand, rests the other one on Stiles' chest, and strokes the soft skin, scratches through the patch of hair underneath his belly button.

 

One of Stiles' hands curls around Derek's side, and Derek can feel the almost bruises appear, leans into it and hums, eyes sliding shut, lets his head fall back, neck bared, moans low in his chest when Stiles starts to fuck into him, rhythm faltering before settling into something _more_ , of Derek rocking down when Stiles jolts up, cock dragging and catching on his rim.

 

Derek hovers in an almost haze, between the feeling of Stiles cock and _Stiles_ , until Stiles' hand wraps around his cock, fingers tight and certain, lets his head loll forward lazily and looks down at Stiles, flicks at his nipple and smiles, mouth parted.

 

"Wanna' see you come." Stiles manages, and Derek shakes his head, clenches down on Stiles' cock and twists his hips.

 

"Not before you." He says, breathless, and something warm curls in his chest when Stiles' mouth drops open, before curling at the corner, eyes crinkling a little.

 

Stiles hums, lifts his head, and reaches one arm to Derek's, tugs until Derek lets himself fall forward, and Derek feels like he should be weary, but Stiles kisses him, sweet and slow, until it's lazy between them, Derek's cock dragging against their stomachs, sticky with pre-come.

 

Derek feels a hand against his chest, knuckles brushing over his stomach, muscles clenching, before Stiles' hand wraps around his cock, just as he fucks his hips up, cock catching against Derek's prostate, and Derek goes rigid, head hanging forward, bites into his lip almost enough to draw blood.

 

" _Fucker._ " He gasps, but it comes out fond, always does, and Stiles gives a small laugh, clenches his hand a little tighter, and brushes a kiss against Derek's cheek.

 

"Next time." Stiles says, like it's a promise and Derek figures it is.

 

Derek's rhythm keeps on slipping, tries to rock between Stiles' hand and cock, kisses messily at his mouth, and bites sloppy kisses at his neck, caught between wanting to come and wanting to watch Stiles come first, a slow burn is already building in his stomach though, his cock sticky against Stiles' hand and hole fluttering, clenching with every brush of Stiles' cock. Knows he's not going to last much longer.

 

" _Please_ ," Stiles murmurs, sounding half awed, half reverent, twists his hand and flicks his thumb over the head of Derek's cock, and Derek lets go, bows forward and pushes onto Stiles' cock, groans deep in his throat and bites at Stiles' collarbone, shakes a little, and absently feels Stiles' hands against his hips, back, arms.

 

He's shaking when he finally leans back, and Stiles is wide eyed, cheeks flushed and travelling down his chest, but he's still hard, and Derek can feel him straining, close to the edge, but not quite there.

 

"You're perfect," Derek mumbles, half to himself, and it feels slurred, tongue thick in his mouth, but _right_ , rocks carefully, lazily, against Stiles, still so sensitive, but he wants this, needs it even, wants to feel Stiles fall apart.

 

Derek reaches for Stiles' hand which is gripping the sheets, knuckles white, and tangles their fingers together, drags it until their palms rest on Stiles' chest, feels his fluttering heart beat against the pads of his fingers.

 

"Stiles." He says, _Stiles, Stiles, Stiles_ , like a chant, and watches Stiles freeze, before his eyes widen, slamming shut a second later, back arching and mouth open, broken whimpers and hand squeezing around Derek's as he comes.

 

Derek feels Stiles go slack beneath him, chest heaving and a goofy smile on his face, can't help but smile as well, lifts himself from Stiles' cock and already misses the feel of being stretched open but he feels full and warm. He reaches for the tissues at the side of the bed, cleans them both up half-heartedly before flopping down onto the bed, limbs heavy and sated.

 

"Was it good for you?" Stiles asks a few moments later, and Derek sees him pull a face when his hand falls in a wet part, but his eyes flick across Derek's face, and Derek knows he's looking for any sign of regret, any sign that Derek didn't enjoy this and his face softens a little more, reaches out and pulls Stiles close.

 

"I loved it." He says, words flowing free, and chest light. "But," He pauses, buries his nose into Stiles' hair and kisses his temple. "Next time, you're doing all the work."

 

Stiles chuff’s, hums a quiet _"Jerk,"_ and presses a kiss to Derek's chest, and pinches his nipple in retaliation, before he curls into him, lazily strokes down his chest, and Derek knows they should shower, they're sticky and gross and the room smells of sex, but he's warm and _happy_ , figures they can stay like this for a little while longer.

 

And they do.  


End file.
